The Misadventures of Inatimate Objects
by BathedinInsanity
Summary: What happens when sentient Marker and Kitchen Knife set out for their destinies and adventures of grandeur and glammor...utter insanity.


_joo R 601n6 +0 CR45|-| N 8|_|R/\/!!! By l33t jay 2003 (D1$+|_|r83d 1/\/ D4 |-|0|_|$3!!!)  
  
Disclaimer - I don't own shit.  
  
Marker stood up and bounced, as markers have no legs, over to his companion Kitchen Knife. KK was chilling at the bar, downing shots of Red 4PpL3. Marker eyes his slightly inebriated companion, before placing two strips of enveloped paper on the bar.  
  
KK set down his shot glass, and looked down at the tickets, then back up at Marker. "\/\/|-|47 15 +|-|@7?" KK said in fluent l33t.  
  
"Plane tickets, we're going to Tokyo." Marker grinned. KK's response was comparable to Weasel taking several shots of acid. His eyes went bloodshot and his limbs began to twitch. "P.P.l@/\/3?!!!111" Marker winced as the 1's, scorned from their proper exclamation mark places of royalty where forever banished to the 'Dumbasses Who Can't Hold Shift Right', aka DWCHSR, realm forevermore. "j00 Kn0w 1 C@/\/+ FlY 1n 4 Pl@/\/3!!!1"  
  
KK gacked, grabbed his throat, squealed, fell to the ground, gurgled, kicked, spasmed, kicked one final time and then lapsed into a state of unconsciousness. Marker took one look down, and contemplated for, eh, a half a second and drug the limp body to the Bronco.  
  
Somewhere in the deep recesses of the African Jungle, a monkey yawned and pulled feces out of his lover's hair. What effect this might have on our plot? Damned if I know.  
  
Several hours later, KK awoke to the sounds of a jet whining. Immediately he re-shut his eyes and yelled for Marker to turn his computer off. Un-l33t computer fan.wait a second. He was sleeping upright, something he never did unless sober, and KK was N3V3R sober.  
  
Groggily he opened his eyes, and saw the mass of grey bland seats lined side by side, empty all except for the one adjacent to his. Marker sat there, holding his Gameboy as he played Seasons of Sakura for the umpteenth time. Calmly KK sat upright, turned to Marker and asked in the cool as a cucumber visage, "Marker.are we on a plane?"  
  
Marker didn't bother to look away from his game, and nodded placidly. "The type that fly in the air?" KK asked. Again Marker nodded. "So we're thousands of feet in the air as we speak right?" Marker nodded, his attention firmly locked on beating his game. Several seconds paused.  
  
The PA system flicked on, "This is your caption speaking, if you've just now noticed a gigantic sentient Kitchen Knife is know trying to push an equally large and sentient Sharpie Marker through the emergency exit. If any of you own these sentient utensils, please re-claim them or they're screwed. On the bright side, if you look to your right you should be able to see a beautiful view of Satan. Have a nice day and think you for choosing Lucif Air Lines."  
  
In the deep abyss of hell, a servient demon waddles, because this is the way of lowly demons, through the corridors of pain. Screams, moans, and anguished cries of pain echoed through the halls. Said demon made a mental note to tell Sakaguchi-sama to turn the volume down on his hentai games.  
  
The demon stopped in front of a large crimson red door, through the door echoed small sounds. "Ok Ken, let's go the shopping mall!" "Ok Barbie, let's go down Route 666!" The demon opened the door, to see an overly large, overly horned, overly tailed, and overly gay red man sweeping several Barbie dolls off the table onto his lap.  
  
"FOOL! YOU ARE TO KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING!"  
  
"Yes master." the demon muttered pathetically.  
  
"Did you see anything?" Satan asked cautiously.  
  
"No sir! I didn't see you playing with your dolls again."  
  
"Good, what is it?"  
  
"Sir, a disturbance on the earth. The God of Bad Jokes seems to have been awakened."  
  
"I see.so the foretold time has come. The final battle between bad jokes and lewd comedy. JUDGEMENT DAY HAS COME!"  
  
"Satan.please don't read those End of the World novels and listen to Death Metal at the same time."  
  
"Uh.dismissed."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
On a deserted island, the glued on eyes of a large Kitchen Knife fluttered open to the cawing, or whater noise seagulls make, of seagulls. Wait.I said seagulls one too many times. Oh well.screw it.  
  
Said Knife slowly sat up, which was rudementrecilly impossible given the shape, size, and heft of the knife, but this author slept through Geometry so it doesn't matter. He looked around and stood up, wondering just where the hell they were. When he found Marker, he was so going to.wait.Marker?  
  
Then he remembered, plane, strangeling, plummeting to their dooms, girlish screaming coming from..himself..no..it must have been from Marker. He nodded, yes definitively from Marker. He walked off into the light to search for his compadre, his dearest friend, a brother to him really they were so close. He headed off into the light.so he could kill him.  
  
On the other side of the island, or perhaps another island, who really knows? Well the author knows, but he's not going to tell *grin*. Marker awoke, his felt tipped head surging with pain. He moved his arm to rub his head, but found he couldn't move his arm but several inches.  
  
At this his eyes snapped open, and he found himself bound in ropes that dug into his plastic flesh rather hard. He looked around and at the sound of a whip cracking, he looked up to see a figure clad in a red leather dominatrix outfit, hefting a cat 'o' nine tails. "OHHHooooHOOOOhhOOOOOO!" boomed a loud dominative female voice.  
  
Marker sighed and looked down, "Aw nutz."  
  
To Be Continued. 


End file.
